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2013 World CX Championships

Greetings, Team Seagal Bandolero's!

There are only a handful of things, in life, that I have ever planned on doing more than a year before they happened. The wedding, school graduations, that time I attempted to assassinate Shaggy 2-Dope,
and now this: the World CX Championships coming to Louisville this year. Anyone who actually bothers to continue to read this fucking blog probably knows all about that race and how important it is/was, so I shouldn't have to explain that to you. That would be like Violent J trying to teach a random juggalo how to do meth and fail at life - they already are fucking experts at that business.

So I don't really have to tell you what it felt like as we walked the ~mile from the car to the course, the sheer excitement that coursed through my veins as we heard the loudspeakers in the distance, or the uncontrollable elation when seeing the Elite racers pass by for the first time, having waited so long! Not to mention the pride at hearing the loudest crowd I've ever heard, or will likely ever hear, at a bike race. It was so loud that Velonews said it was the "most frenzied championship" in the event's 63 year history, and was without a doubt louder than the 50,000-60,000 people last year in Koksijde, Belgium (despite having only 10,000 people.) It was so loud, that for most of the course, heckling was pretty much futile, so you might as well just cheer/scream/make noise. I felt like Homer Simpson in Australia when he saw the special toilet that made the water swirl the opposite way: patriotic. Go 'Murica!

I had waited a long time for this moment. Anyone know how to rotate video?

From our Travel Agent, Nico, providing us with insanely cheap hotel rates, to Tittay providing (some of) us with safe travel down there, it was a glorious event that will forever be etched into our brain, not unlike the scent of my fart gas has been forever singed into Mrs. Crotch's nostrils. Energor help her. The bars were filled with bike dorks all throughout the town, it was surreal.

The morning of the one AND ONLY race day, we awoke to a badass breakfast, which would serve to help fuel my frenzy the rest of the day. And once that food wore off, it would just be pure, un-distilled adrenaline that would keep the party rolling along the sideline where we would run into so many people from St. Louis, it almost felt like home! Fortunately for the rest of us though, Tittay forgot his never-ending air-horn for the second half of the day, hehehe...

Straight outta Belgium:

These goddamned Canucks fell off their moose on the way to a hockey game:

This headgear made me more than a little homesick:

Super badass!

Unbeknownst to us, we were hanging out with and receiving dirty, sinful playing cards from none other than the owner of the Cross Crusade in Portland, OR. This was a man from whom we have much to learn. We were thankful, as it gave us something to do in between races:

Some dirty sinful business had worked its way onto course:

Trebon!

Ms. Tittay and the business card for her new pen-pal:

Best placing American, Tim Johnson, as he pre-rides - we made sure to tell him to pre-ride that shit:

In Soviet Russia, flag waves you!

Tom, upon realizing his true sexuality after staring for a LOOOONG time at his playing card, decided to go for it whole-hog and maybe pick up some male-suitors in the process:

Tyl0r the Chicken meeting Chicken Little with Wonder Woman and a hot dog.

Brad Huff, up in dem trees, like The Predator:

Much of the crown, lining the hillside:

Hearing the thunderous pounding in the distance of the crowd banging on the boards lining the finishing straight was just chillingly badass. It was like a storm. Oooooo fucking weeee.

It wasn't until probably Wednesday that my voice started to sound like normal, and perhaps if I worked in a non-bike-related industry that would seem weird to my co-workers. All I know is that if you are a fan of bike racing (CX or otherwise) and you weren't down in Louisville this past weekend, you missed out - kinda like Criss Angel not getting a ticket onto the Noah's Ark of boys.

There is just too much to be said about this past weekend, and one thing is for sure, I am not the person to give you the true rundown. So go look up moar video and photos, you may find someone you recognize.

With this momentous occasion in the books, we now turn our focus onto a spring/summer of badass rides/races. Here are *SOME* of those that are on the radar for the next few months: